


Ghost

by Lumielles



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Just A Dream, Other, false start, post-copero, you betrayed your gf and now you gotta deal with that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumielles/pseuds/Lumielles
Summary: So, I had to write a ‘false start’ story for my creative writing class.  And I wrote this.  Theron's spent 24 years on the run since he betrayed the Eternal Alliance.  And someone he's never met catches up with him.  Hope you’re in the mood for Theron angst.





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Danna is the daughter of Theron and my Sith Inquisitor Aramys. Aramys, as of update 5.7, is currently 5-6 months pregnant with Danna.

“Theron Shan. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right here.” A woman said behind him, holding a blaster pistol to the back of his head.

It was a voice he’d never heard before, but he knew immediately who it belonged to. The emotion behind her words had betrayed her anonymity. His skin prickled as he thought of the decades he’d spent on the run. The fact that no one around him was reacting to the pistol at his head spoke volumes of the kind of company he’d been keeping since he betrayed the Eternal Alliance. The woman’s hand began to tremble, the sudden unsteadiness of the barrel digging into his scalp told him that. He didn’t answer her but took a slow sip of his poor excuse for brandy.

“Answer me,” she said, more of a desperate plea than a demand. 

“Danna, sit down,” Theron said. Just saying her name made his mouth dry up. He’d gone twenty-four years knowing it, but he had never had the strength to say it out loud. He didn’t deserve to say it.

The pistol pressed harder into his skull before it fell away. The woman took a shaky breath. Slowly, she made her way to the other side of the table. She slid into a chair across from him with all the grace of her mother. The overhanging light lit up her features, allowing him to see his daughter outside of all those holoimages he’d collected. She took after him, that much was obvious. Aramys was still there; her black hair, her pointed nose, the way the corners of Danna’s mouth turned down as she glared at him. It gave him a small amount of peace to know that she hadn’t been completely wiped from this galaxy.

“I’ve wanted to pull that trigger since I was a little girl, since the moment I was told that my mother died because of you.” Danna snarled. The tip of her nose wiggled as she talked. Just like her Aramys’ did.

Theron downed the rest of his drink, clearing his throat as it burned. He really could have gone the rest of his life without seeing the ghost of Aramys in their daughter’s features.

“Lana tell you that?” he asked with a scowl.

“Are you saying it’s not true?” Danna said, unconsciously mirroring his expression. 

“No,” Theron paused, “It’s true.”

“Do you want to give me some sob story about how your stupid plan to save the galaxy alone backfired? How my mother wasn’t supposed to die? Because believe me, I’ve heard it.”

He was sure she had. If she was anything like him, she’d probably probed every person in her life for their version of that story; compiling them all together into one that still painted him as the man who took everything from her.

“Maybe you took one look at me and decided that being forced to live out the rest of my life would be a better punishment than dying?” Theron ran a hand through his graying hair.

“You ruined my life— “

“I ruined both our lives,” Theron said in a low growl. “And I’m sure countless others.”

He remembered the inhuman anger in Lana’s voice as she told him if she saw him again, she’d kill him without hesitation. The weight of Aramys in his arms as her life was painfully sapped from her. The way the hand she had curled into his hair fell limp as words died on her paling lips. Words he’d never get to hear. Words that haunted him.

“You’re right,” Danna sniffed, “Killing you would be a mercy.” She stood, hovering over him like a reaper. She was taller than he had expected.

“Danna,” he looked up at her, unsure of what he could even say. The boiling hatred in her eyes made his blood run cold. 

“I used to ask myself every night what kind of person you were. No one ever wanted to talk about you. It’s consumed me for—years. And to see that you’re some pathetic drunk—I don’t understand how my mother could have loved you at all.”

“At least we have that in common,” Theron snorted. 

“Someone used to tell me that my mother wouldn’t have wanted me to hate you, that she loved you even after you left her. That she’d want me to love you too. But— “

Theron didn’t need to hear what she said next, he knew. It hung in the air between them like a thick fog. He’d orphaned her, and there was nothing he could ever say that would change that. He couldn’t change her childhood, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I can’t.” her voice became guttural, her face twisting into the shadows. 

Aramys’ dualsaber activated into his chest, and he saw the glow of Danna’s now yellow eyes. The stench of his own burning flesh filled his nostrils as he lost the ability to breathe. 

Gasping for air, Theron jolted awake. The smell of burning skin was quickly replaced with the metallic scent of open space. He ripped away the blankets of his makeshift bed on the floor of his shuttle. His heart raced, he could feel the pulse in his extremities. The deafening thumping filled his ears and the heat that was under his skin was unbearable. 

That had easily been one of the worst dreams he’d ever had.

A holoimage flickered beside his pillow. Aramys stood beside his father. A news ticker below the holo read of how she and Malcom were formally announcing a collaboration between the Republic and the Eternal Alliance.

It was the only image he could find where her pregnancy was clear. She hadn’t exactly tried to hide it, not that she could anymore. It was another message for him, he knew it had to be. She was hoping he’d see it and change his mind. And it was almost enough. Almost.


End file.
